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Chapter 2: LongingShe had been watching the door for almost fifteen minutes now.
She was vaguely aware of the happy chatter around her.
Where is he? Class started thirty minutes ago…
Her head was spinning with the pure, hungry longing she was consumed with whenever he was around.
She sighed and turned away from the door to smile warmly at Colin, who was happily fabricating a mini-broomstick out of rubber-bands. Where could he be?
Virginia Weasley had rushed into Advanced Potions today just as the bell rang; she was eager as always to be prompt for her favourite class of the day. Admittedly, it wasn't her favourite academic class (although she did have a knack for potions). And she certainly didn't enjoy it because of the teacher. Greasy wanker, she thought with revulsion. No … she loved Advanced Potions because of the class. The students. One student in particular, as a matter of fact.
And he's quite late today, she thought, pursing her lips in slight annoyance.
She had worked her fingers to the bone (and several wands to the hair) last year to pass fifth year, sixth year and sixth year accelerated Potions by the exam time, so that she could take Advanced Potions in her this year in sixth form. Colin Creevey, her best mate, had even volunteered to undergo the strenuous process of learning with her. Many a burnt cauldron compounded Professor Snape's rage as the two of them worked through pages and pages of dull recipes late at night last year. All so that she could have one class with him this year. It was his last year at Hogwarts; and she had decided it was absolutely imperative they have some forced time together.
So after she had walked into Potions right on time today, kissing up to old Snape with a winning smile, she had found her seat and promptly started worrying as to why Harry wasn't there. Colin, ever the supporter, simply laughed and continued with his stupid rubber-band creations.
Finally, after Snape (or rather, Hermione) had finished a very dry lecture on the Polyjuice Potion, he sauntered into class in all his shining glory.
He flicked a pass towards Snape's desk, running a hand through his tangled black locks. His bright emerald eyes shimmered mischievously behind those silly black glasses. Ginny had found she could lose herself in those eyes.
Harry Potter.
He sauntered down the aisle coolly, flashing smiles to his housemates and grinning at Hermione, who was frowning at his tardiness. Ginny managed to retrieve herself from her half-melted state enough to scoot over, making room for him in the rare case that stars had aligned and he would sit next to her. She smoothed her hair, desperately hoping she looked halfway decent. Desperately hoping he might notice her.
But he just walked right past, ignoring the space she had created for him, ignoring the forlorn gaze she sent his way. All he did was send her a big-brotherly wink before sliding into the seat behind her next to her brother and Hermione.
It was enough to send a girl over the edge.
So, lab partners having been assigned, she was forced to live with the knowledge that he was behind her for the length of the whole, rotten, bloody two-hour class. By the time the final bell rung, she had developed a frightening paranoia that perhaps she had something in her hair or some unattractive object stuck to her back. It would be typical for the gods to mock her like that.
She rushed out of the classroom, not even bothering to stay for the extra suck-up conversation she usually forced herself to have with Snape after his class. She pressed herself to the wall, hugging her books tightly to her chest after frantically swiping at her back (just to be sure) and prayed to every god she could think of that he would just walk by.
But of course not.
His clear, ringing laugh echoed through the dungeons, and it was all she could do to wipe the ridiculous dreamy smile off her face before he rounded the door. His beautiful eyes found her in the shadows, and he smiled happily.
"Hey Gin! I can't believe we're doing Polyjuice, can you? Hectic, eh? After what me and Ron did second year!" He laughed again and elbowed her playfully. Subconsciously, she realized she was probably gawking like a fool again, but honestly, she couldn't care less.
"Ron and I, Harry, Ron and I," scolded Hermione. He rolled his eyes at her. All of this completely riveted Ginny.
"Yea, hectic," she said dreamily.
He gave her a confused look, then winked playfully at her. Damn that wink. "Still can't believe you made Advanced Potions this year. Bloody bright you are. Someone in the family had to get the brains," Harry said innocently as understanding began to dawn on the giant redhead next to him.
"Hey!" Ron said angrily.
But Ginny barely noticed. Her world had faded away until only Harry, her beautiful Anthony, held center stage. If only she were Cleopatra.
Harry had never even stopped walking, and as he continued on he said, "Make sure you bring those cookies your Mum sent you this morning to the party tonight! Vat's celebrating … something or other tonight … but you knew that right? Oh, Dean, over here mate, about tomorrow's game …"
Just like that. He would never notice her. She was nothing more than her brother's little sister.
And if it mattered at all, no, she did not know that Parvati was having a party tonight. No one told her anything. She huffed angrily before slapping herself mentally and beginning her psychoanalysis of the 'conversation' she had just had with Harry.
Colin strolled up to her. He'd been waiting for her by the door to Potions for the duration of the painfully short encounter, the sweetheart. A small smile crept over his lips as he approached her and relieved her of the books in her arms, awaiting the imminent self-criticism.
Ginny was more than ready to comply. She rolled her eyes in exasperation with herself and threw her hands in the air. "Could I have looked like any more of a bloody schoolgirl? He must think I'm mentally retarded!" She ranted angrily. Pausing, she clasped her hands in front of her chest and fluttered her eyelashes stereotypically. "Yea, hectic," she intoned in a highpitched voice. She dropped her hands abruptly and rolled her eyes again. "I am such a bloody idiot!"
Colin laughed softly and patted his friend on the back. "You're not an idiot, love. If he would just open his eyes and see the stunning, redheaded beauty hanging on his every word, he might just keel over. He's the bloody idiot, if you ask me!"
Ginny snorted ever-so-unattractively and punched Colin in the arm. "Gee, thanks. Stunning redheaded beauty my arse …" She twirled a piece of the substance in question around her smallest finger, a habit of hers. "What do you think, Caz? I'm thinking maybe I should go blonde… Harry seemed to be completely taken with Lavendar during lunch last week …"
Colin looked at her incredulously before shaking his head. "You're the only person I've ever heard of who's that freakishly stalkish. And no. Never, never, never go blonde. Never." He shuddered in dramatic disgust.
Ginny chuckled and told Colin she'd be right back. As she turned to head for the loo though, she felt someone's eyes on her back.
Her eyes darkened with hatred and she turned and glowered back at her follower. Malfoy.
The prick had stared at her all through Potions, and she was beginning to get the threatening feeling that the aristocratic bastard was planning something truly evil for her specifically. After the Sorting Ceremony this year, the boy had made it his personal duty to send her the most seething stares humanity had ever witnessed and attack her with the most disgracing invectives possible. In fact, right after that first supper in the Great Hall he had sought her out, goons in tow, and verbally torn her down like no other. Malfoy had never even acknowledged she existed before!
Prat.
And there he was, standing with a posture that declared he owned the ground he walked on, be it Hogwarts itself. He stood flanked by Crabbe and Goyle and a gaggle of Slytherin females falling over themselves for a millisecond of his time. But strangely (or disturbingly), he acted totally oblivious to everything around him accept her, staring at her down the long corridor that led to the Potions dungeon like she was the only person on the whole goddamn planet. Stared at her like she was the sole cause of all his problems, the pebble in his polished, perfect shoe. Stared at her like he was … hungry.
Merlin, how he pissed her off.
She tucked her flaming hair behind her ears and stormed off to the loo after a brief staring contest with the Prince of Slytherin. Regaining her calm, she tried to convince herself to brush it off. Instead, her mind meandered its way back around to its favourite topic … those emerald green eyes …